


As great a name as this proud city

by sloganeer



Category: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-24
Updated: 2009-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Because I live in New York."</p>
            </blockquote>





	As great a name as this proud city

**Author's Note:**

> For ljuser=picfor1000.

Nick and Norah, bickering already when the van pulls onto the sidewalk outside Arlene's Grocery. Lethario shares an apartment with four other guys five blocks over, and he's just sentimental enough to choose as the rendezvous the place where Devon picked him up in the first place.

"There's my man," Devon says, hanging out the passenger side window.

"You're late," Lethario tells him, but he can't hold out. Devon's looking up at him with those eyes and that mouth, and Lethario has to kiss the pout right off him. "So let me in already."

He knocks on the side of the van, just to hear a sharp squeak from Norah. They finally shut up, and Norah calls out, "Hi, Lethario!"

Devon steps out onto the sidewalk when he opens the door, letting Lethario get in first, and climbing back in to sit on his lap. He has to twist around to say hi to the back of the van and barely gets a hand up to wave at Thom before Devon sticks his tongue down his throat.

"I missed you," Devon says when he lets up. "Why don't you live in New Jersey?"

"Because I live in New York."

"All right, boys," Norah says from the back. She has a voice that cuts through everything, demanding. "Let's get to the club before we start grinding to the music."

Thom drives like a guy who needs to get laid, tense and close to the wheel and all over the road. Devon fiddles with the radio. Norah offers a CD, but the van doesn't have a player.

Conversation always comes back around to band names. The Jerk-Offs lasted a week; Fistful of Assholes lasted a night. They're playing Arlene's again next Saturday, and they don't have anything to put on a flyer yet.

"Why don't you just call yourselves The Band?" As soon as he says it, the van goes quiet, and Lethario knows it's wrong. "Um."

"I think that name's taken, sweetie." Norah leans forward to pat his shoulder.

Thom parks around the corner in a crowded alley. The first club of the night is one of Lethario's favourites, the first gay club he was brave enough to walk into when he arrived in New York. It was a revelation wrapped up in concrete red brick walls.

Norah wants to wait for Caroline, who was already in town today and meeting them here. She's late, but Norah says she's coming.

Devon backs him up into a stairwell, covered in graffiti and smelling like piss. But everything else is pink from the neon light pointing the way into the club, and it's easier than Lethario expects to lean against the brick, wrap his arms around Devon's neck, take his weight, and kiss him.

"It's going to be a great night," Devon says. "I can feel it."

When Lethario turns his head to let Devon at his neck, he can see the stars through a window at the top of the stairs.

"Don't mind me," Thom interrupts. He and Devon square off, sticking their tongues out at each other. Nick watches with a different eye, observing and calculating.

Norah snaps her phone shut. She says they're done waiting and leads the way into the club. Lethario still doesn't know how she does that. She holds Nick's hand while she chats with the big guy at the door with the clipboard. She waits until they're all inside before she throws out a casual, See you later, and follows behind.

Nick isn't much for dancing. He looks as comfortable in this place as he looks on stage with Thom and Devon, as he looks anywhere, actually. But Norah holds him close to her side. She goes up on her toes to say something in his ear, and then they're leaving the dancefloor and heading up the stairs. Later, when Lethario is sweaty and high on the music and Devon's hands on his hips, when Devon begs him to stay and dance, just one more song, Lethario will remind him that Nick and Norah are up in the VIP lounge, and Devon can be a VIP, too.

First, they have to dance. Devon pushes his way to the middle of the dancefloor, centre stage. Lethario follows the zig, zag of his hips. The music is a welcome throb in his chest, a heavy beat holding him down, his feet on the floor. Boys look, but Lethario is watching Devon dance. He's more fluid here than on stage. It's just moving, really, no steps and no lessons required. But there's only one other thing you could call it when Devon's mouth falls open and he groans loud enough for all to hear.

Thom bumps Lethario out of the beat. It might be hours or just minutes later, but he's sweaty, Devon's lost his shirt, and it's time for a drink. The three of them elbow their way out and up the stairs. Thom leaves his dance partner on the floor.

Caroline's sitting between Nick and Norah, smacking her gum and gesturing with the hand holding her drink.

"Hi!" She stumbles up and steps over the low table to hug them all in turn. "When did you guys get here?"

"They've been here, Caroline," Norah says, face turned up with that indulgent smile.

Devon flops next to Nick, half on Nick, and steals the beer resting on his knee. Thom has disappeared, to the bar to pick up a round, hopefully. Lethario squeezes into the last bit of booth before the wall.

"Nicky, Nicky, Nicky," Devon sings, his head on Nick's shoulder. They all have nicknames, the three of them. They're all so close. Lethario isn't there yet. He looks for Thom at the bar, then back to the booth, and Norah is smiling at him on the other side. She gets it.

Lethario picks up Devon's hand off Nick's crotch and works their fingers together. Devon turns his head slow, his eyes unfocused until they meet Lethario's, and he grins so wide.

"There's my man."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, [I think you'll like the ones I write for money.](http://jamesondash.com/books) :)


End file.
